But here’s my real beef with this factionThey don’t seem to take any actionThey’re just like bread without the butterA ship without a blinkin’ rudderOr how’s this for a better notion?A ship without a stinkin’ oceanAnd like some groovy sixties guyThey’re tripping on a crisis high

Well, by the braids of LysistrataAnd with the force of an armadaTough and brave and hale and heartyCome the ladies of partyWearing skirt and pearls and blouseTo take the reins and clean the HouseAnd stay until the Senate’s wonA woman’s work…has just begun